


Chin Up

by waddiwasiwitch



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-27 06:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21387616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waddiwasiwitch/pseuds/waddiwasiwitch
Summary: Roy is being bullied and Chris has some words of wisdom for her nephew.
Relationships: Chris "Madam Christmas" Mustang & Roy Mustang
Comments: 9
Kudos: 30





	Chin Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tasia (ruikosakuragi)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruikosakuragi/gifts).

> A very, very belated gift for Tas.

**Chin Up**

_ For Tas _

The dark-haired boy walked quickly over the cobbled streets. The narrow laneway was quiet and almost deserted ahead, just the way he liked it. A high wall on one side kept out the hot sun and on the other side were gardens and back yards.

“Hey Mustang, you freak!”

He stiffened and his hold on his school bag tightened. He kept walking not wanting to give his tormenters the satisfaction of a response. 

“Wait up, Roy, why don’t you want to be friends?”

He grimaced at the laughing that followed. They were getting closer. He had deliberately taken his usual shortcut through the side street home because none of the other kids went that way but they must have followed. 

_ Why can’t they leave me alone? _

He kept his head held high and bit back a snarky retort which would surely only spur the other boys on. He probably should have kept his mouth shut in class earlier. At least when teachers were around, he was safe.

“Teacher’s pet! Don’t ignore us.”

He gritted his teeth and kept on moving. Steps quickened behind him and he took a deep breath. He balled his fists and whirled around. “What do you want?”

Three boys approached with sadistic grins on their faces.

Martin, the tallest and the meanest of the three, was closest and stepped towards him. “Hey Mustang, you don’t look happy to see us.” 

Roy held his ground, despite the hammering of his heart. “I said what do you want?”

The boys surrounded him and Martin smirked as he pulled Roy’ schoolbag off his shoulders.

“Hey!” Roy reached for it. “Give it back.”

Martin tossed the bag to his blonde accomplice. “Catch it, John!” 

John grunted and giggled as he caught it before throwing it to the third boy, Fred. Roy stood on his tippy toes trying to get the bag but all three were taller than him and he couldn’t reach.

“Give me my bag!”

“Aw, the poor freak is going to cry.” John zipped open the bag. “Ok.” He smiled maliciously and then he spilt all the contents out on the muddy ground at Roy’s feet. “There you go, Shorty.”

Roy was furious. His books were going to be destroyed. A red haze descended and he shoved John taking the other boy by surprise. 

He smiled at the wide-eyed boy sprawled on the ground. “I guess I’m stronger than I look, assholes.”

He should have taken the opportunity to run instead of snark. His eyes widened as John and Fred slammed his body into the ground. He bit down on his tongue in an effort not to cry out. He gagged on the blood. Fred pinned his arms and John held his ankles together. He struggled to escape, writhing in their grasp. They were too strong and he heard the tear of the sound of material ripping. Martin towered over him and punched him hard in the stomach. Roy gasped uncontrollably, the pain radiated through his body. The three boys laughed.

“See you tomorrow, Freakstang,” Martin muttered. The other boy let him go. “Make sure to bring something nice for lunch from your whore of an aunt.”

Roy lay on the ground, unable to prevent the tears running down his face. He sat up and wiped them away. His body ached from where it hit the ground and his stomach was still paining him.

  
  
  


A half-hour later, Roy crept in the back door of the bar hoping to get up to his room without being seen. The living quarters at the back of his aunt’s establishment was overcrowded but comfortable. The carpets were mauve and the furniture brown and aged. But it was home since his parents died. He loved his aunt and her employees, some of whom he had known so long he called them his sisters. The narrow hallway was dark with no natural light and he slipped past the kitchen door His eyes were red-rimmed, his black hair a mess, his sweater torn and dirty. He had gathered up his books which were thankfully dirty but otherwise undamaged. He hated those boys. He hated all of his classmates. He hated school. He wiped his eyes angrily and yelped as the door to the kitchen opened. Chris stood there, framed in the light. Her keen eyes swept his body and narrowing at the state of his uniform.

She put her hands on her hips. “Did you get into a fight? Money doesn’t grow on trees, you know.”

“I know, ok.” He tried to pass by her but she put her hand on his shoulder. “Hey, kiddo, what were you fighting about?”

“Wasn’t fighting,” he said indignantly.

“Look at me, Roy-boy.” He turned slowly and reluctantly. “What’s going on? Have you been crying?”

“No-”

Chris grabbed his arm and he flinched. “Ouch.”

“What’s wrong with your arm?” Her face softened. “C’mon, let’s go into the living room.”

He dipped his head. “I’m fine.”

She shook her head and shoved him further up the hall to the door opposite the stairs. His heart sank as she pushed him into the room. She turned on the light. 

“Roll up that sleeve,” she ordered.

When he didn’t do it, Chris started to do it herself, slowly and carefully, to reveal a purplish bruise. “That didn’t happen today. What’s going on, Roy-boy?” Her eyes flashed. “First that sweater and mud on her face. Now I see this bruise. Who did this to you?”

His face burned in shame. “I’m not a tittle-tattle.” He pulled his arm away.

Her lips thinned. “Are you being bullied? Because if you are, that is not on and I won’t stand for it.”

Roy sighed. “They push me around sometimes and steal my lunch.” Chris’ lips thinned. “The other kids don’t like me very much either. They say mean things about you and the girls. Mom and Dad too.”

She patted his arm. “You’re worth ten of them. You’re smart and ambitious.”

“They think I am sucking up to the teacher.” 

“They’re threatened by you.” She winked. “You’ll show them up in the exams at the end of the year.”

“I guess.”

“You’ll show ‘em, I’ve no doubt.” She lifted his chin. “Chin up, Roy. Never let them see you down. Hold your head up high. You’re Roy Mustang. Be proud of who you are.” 

“I am proud,” he said.

“Good.” She ruffled his hair. “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t defend yourself. If they throw a punch, make sure you punch back.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You’re also small,” she continued, “Small and fast means you can avoid those punches. But never be the one to start fights.”

“Mustangs are always gentlemen after all,” Roy said.

She surprised him by enveloping him in a hug. His aunt wasn’t the most typically maternal sort but he never doubted her affection. He leaned into her embrace.

“Love you, Aunt Chris.”

“Right back at you, kiddo.”

Fin


End file.
